


The Hunter

by TheRedWulf



Series: Sansan One Shots [9]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Filthy Mouth Sandor, Gore, Hunters, If you listen closely you can hear 'Carry On My Wayward Son', Modern Era, Plot Twist, Sarcasm, Smut, Smutty its the main thing here, Spooky Month, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Vampire Hunters, Vampires, Werewolves, badass!sansa, really - Freeform, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:54:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26847004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Modern/Supernatural - In which a dedicated Hunter's life is changed by an unexpected beauty...Picset is viewableHERE
Relationships: Sandor Clegane & Sansa Stark, Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Series: Sansan One Shots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1479980
Comments: 45
Kudos: 182





	The Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> _*takes a deep breath*_ IT'S SPOOKY MONTH!!!!!!!!!!! I know I already said it, but you know what that means, my dudes! Spooky story time with Wulfy! Vampires, werewolves, witches, OH MY! We've already seen Roose the Monster Hunter, now brace yourself for Sandor the Hunter! This is gory, smutty, and a bit fluffy, I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> If you're on discord, feel free to come and join the [Red Wulf's Pack](https://discord.gg/bsRauMj/)! I can't wait to talk with you there! There might even be exciting new challenges and stories on the horizon!
> 
> As always, I don't consider myself a writer. This is something I do for fun. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors--they're all my own. :D :P Thank you for reading!

“Stupid girl” Sandor muttered to himself for the hundredth time as he lay the unconscious woman on the dark comforter of his king sized bed. He paused to observe her for several seconds, taking the opportunity to admire her beauty without her screaming at the top of her lungs. 

It was that scream that had him running down the damned alley to reach her, arriving just in time to see her land a solid punch to the face of the bloodsucker trying to shove her into a car. She was all fury and fire, fighting a losing battle with a supernatural being that could break her in two. 

He’d dealt with the leech easily enough, Sandor doing what he does best with a wooden stake and a fair amount of force. Maybe next time she’d be less foolish and stay away from dark alleys in the middle of the night. She was a juicy meal just waiting to be had. 

He’d spent years of long nights hunting and tracking vampires down, King’s Landing had once been full of them but it finally seemed as if their numbers were dwindling. 

Could be because their leader, the blond little cunt they called ‘The King’, kept sending minions to kill Sandor and none of them ever returned. One had gotten close a few years ago, his hand drifted to the scars that ran along the side of his face, bisecting his eyebrow and left ear. 

Damned close. 

Still, he was alive and kicking, in the right place at the right time to save a beautiful woman from certain death at the hand of a bloodsucker. 

A very beautiful woman, he admitted to himself. He’d seen enough of her while she was fighting, tall, slender but with surprising strength, and a curtain of fiery auburn hair that sent a bolt of lust straight to his cock. And now that he could see her porcelain skin and full lips, he was beyond certain a woman this beautiful would want nothing to do with him when she woke up. 

Stepping away, he turned for the door when a soft voice had him freezing. 

“You’re not a vampire,” she said, a statement of fact not a question. 

“No” he didn’t turn back, wanting to keep his face a secret for just a few more peaceful moments. 

“Did you kill him?” 

“Yes,” he replied. 

“Good” she was quiet for several moments, then continued. “Are you even going to look at me?” she asked, a rustling of the bed indicating that she was either sitting or standing now. Sandor exhaled, bracing himself for the moment of truth, and turned to face her. As suspected, she was standing beside the bed now, her leather jacket discarded and laying across the comforter. She didn’t recoil or scream as he anticipated, merely looked over his scars with an unreadable expression, then met his eyes and smiled. 

“Sansa Stark” she extended her hand. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.” 

“Sandor Clegane” he took her hand in his, surprised at how soft her skin was. Stark, why did that name sound familiar--he’d be damned if he could place it though. “How’s your head?”

“Hurts but it will be healed up soon enough” she laughed, releasing his hand to touch the side of her head. She’d been knocked to the pavement pretty hard, it wasn’t surprising she’d been out cold. 

“Maybe next time you’ll stay indoors after dark” he quipped, expecting her to recoil at his hard tone. She surprised him again by laughing, shaking her head which sent that stunning hair of hers fluttering around her waist. 

“That would defeat the purpose then, wouldn’t it?”

“Purpose?” Now he was confused, what the buggering hells was she talking about. 

“You know? Vampire hunting,” she smiled brightly, bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“You?” he scoffed, looking over her skintight jeans and black leather boots. “You were hunting leeches?”

“Yes,” she nodded, glancing around the room. “We at your place?”

“Yeah, didn’t know where to take you and didn’t see the point in leaving you on the sidewalk. Pretty little bird like you would get gobbled right up.”

“You think I’m pretty?” she crossed to the window, peering out through the curtains. 

“You know you’re pretty; gorgeous women always know” he laughed, the sound dark and haunting even to his own ears. 

“Thank you” she looked back at him over her shoulder, eyes boldly raking over him like a lover's caress. “You’re not so bad yourself, I bet you look fantastic without your clothes on.”

“What the fuck—“

“Simply stating” she gave a half shrug, pulling the heavy length of her hair over her shoulder. “As I am sure you know that Vampires aren’t the only things that go bump in the night, Mr. Clegane” she moved from the window to stand before him, patting him playfully at the center of his chest. “And they’re far from the most dangerous.”

“That’s it then, you’re certifiable,” he watched her as she strode past him and into the apartment proper. By the time his brain kicked into gear and he caught up to her, she was rummaging through the sparsely stocked kitchen. 

“You don’t have much food. A man your size has to eat, doesn't he?” she pulled a few things from the fridge. “Pans?”

“There” he motioned to the cabinet near the fridge. “I get take out usually, not exactly the type that entertains.” He was growing more and more certain that he’d died somewhere near the alley and this was all some sort of purgatory illusion. Or maybe she was actually insane, that'd explain her making herself so at home in a stranger’s apartment. Beautiful but fit for bedlam. 

“So how long have you been hunting?” she asked, bubbly and light while cracking eggs into a bowl. 

“Ten years, give or take” he leaned against the kitchen counter beside her, watching her work. “Took over a while back, seems I just had the nose for it. You?”

“Practically all my life” she replied blithely. 

“Which is how long?”

“Cheeky” she winked at him—winked! “I’ll be twenty-eight soon enough.”

“Young, beautiful, and hunting vampires, eh?”

“Family business.”

“Funny” he scoffed, shaking his head.

“That’s me, a regular class clown,” she chopped up several mushrooms and a bell pepper he didn’t realize he had, working efficiently at making the largest omelet he’d ever seen. Actually it didn’t look half bad. Who the fuck was this woman?

“So what then?” he prompted. 

“Patience, Big Boy” she winked, flipped the omelet with a deft hand. “I’ll give you what you want.”

“Is that so?” he raised his good brow in amusement. This was turning out to be the most interesting night he’d had in a long time. 

“Mmhmm” she stuffed more veggies and cheese inside--hey that was his special 3am shredded cheese! He’d have to get more now.

“And what is it you think I want, Little Bird?”

“My secrets of course” she plated the omelet and shut off the stove. “Anything else will have to come later, a girl deserves a little effort before she spills them all, don’t you think?”

“Effort? Wouldn’t effort include me staking the leech that was trying to kill you—“ his words were cut off when she put a fork full of food into his mouth. It was good—damned good, he chewed and swallowed. “Gimme that” he grabbed the plate with a chuckle. 

“You’re welcome!” she called after him as he moved to the modest kitchen table. The surface was covered with various guns and knives, but he made enough space for the plate and settled in. A moment later she appeared in the chair beside him, fork in hand as she stole a bite. 

“Make your own” he said with his mouth full. 

“I used all the eggs on this one, we can shop tomorrow” she stole another bite. 

“We? It’s ‘we’ now?”

“Yup. We,” she popped another bite into her mouth, laughing when he growled at her and moved the plate away. “Oh hush, you’re all bark.”

“Try me” he snapped his teeth at her but she only reached out to pat his cheek. His bad cheek. “Who are you?” he asked before he could stop himself. 

“Me?” she playfully shrugged. “Someone with more bite than you, I guarantee it. I’m going to use your shower” she announced, stealing a last sizable bite before she stood and fluttered from the room. 

Sandor watched her go, wondering how the ever loving fuck tonight had come to this. Best meal he’d had in a while, gorgeous woman getting naked in his bedroom…

“Fuck.”

Sansa smiled as she rinsed the last of the conditioner from her hair, the hot water soothing the ache in her muscles. While tonight hadn’t gone according to plan, it had worked out far better than expected. 

She’d been in King’s Landing for a sennight already and she was pleasantly surprised at how little vampire activity there really was. This, of course, she now attributed to Sandor’s handiwork. 

Every major city had a known Hunter, someone who dedicated their life to protecting the innocent, and she’d come here to find him. Granted she didn’t know it was him she was looking for, but she found him nonetheless. Last she’d heard, a man named Elder Brother had been the Hunter in residence, but it seemed he had passed the torch to Sandor. 

And oh, what a lovely Hunter he was.

She had to hand it to him, he is an absolute unit of a man. The men were big in the North, but Sandor put them all to shame in the best possible way. Tall enough to make enemies of door frames, broad, and covered with muscle, colorful tattoos, and dark hair. Pair that with his-shit kicker boots, surly attitude and the resulting man was quite deliciously masculine. 

She wasn’t joking when she said he probably looked better out of his clothes than in them—rumpled and plaid though they were. 

Briefly she considered using the fantastic water pressure to relieve a little tension, but decided that perhaps masturbating in a Hunter’s shower wasn’t the best way to make a good first impression. 

“Next time” she promised, shutting off the water. 

Wrapping herself in the fluffy bath sheet, she wrung out her hair before tossing it over her shoulder. With the sickly sweet smell of vampire gone, she already felt lighter. She paused to look in the mirror, wiping away the condensation with a smile. 

He’d called her ‘pretty’, she took in her reflection. Men had been telling her for her entire life that she was 'pretty', but for some reason when Sandor said it—like it was a fact rather than a come-on, her stomach fluttered and she felt...well, pretty.

What a delightful development. 

Continuing on the path of making herself right at home--a habit both she and her Sister suffered from, she brushed her hair out quickly with his brush. Tossing the towel over the shower stall, she moved into the bedroom to grab a clean t-shirt from the drawer. His scent, rich and heady, surrounded her and she couldn't help but pause to enjoy it. Pulling it on she was glad that it hung to her knees which meant she could avoid wearing her old clothes for now. She grabbed her smartphone from her discarded jeans and wandered back to the kitchen. Shooting a quick text to her Sister, she set it on the counter and returned to foraging for food.

“Buggering hells, girl” Sandor’s eyes went wide, plate clattering into the sink as he watched her. 

“So, how long have you been killing Joffrey’s lackeys?” she took a beer from the fridge. “Want one?”

“Offering me one of my own beers?”

“We’ll get more when we shop. Be nice and I’ll even open it for you,” she popped the tops on two bottles, handing one to him. 

“You’re awfully comfortable around an ugly fucker like me” his eyes followed as she crossed the floor-to-ceiling bookcase filled with hundreds of books--old and new. She traced the spines of a few familiar titles, careful not to give away too much. A girl had to have some mystery, after all. 

“I’ve seen worse,” she shrugged, turning away from the books to fix him with an earnest expression. “And you’re hardly ugly.”

“You never did tell me what you were doing in the alley” his stormy grey eyes observed as she moved to plop onto the couch. 

“Looking for you” she replied, taking a long sip. “Mission accomplished.”

“For me?” he repeated, clearly not believing her as he sat on the couch opposite her. 

“The Hunter in King's Landing, yeah. You’ve been busy, there’s not a lot of leech activity. Elder Brother must have taught you well.”

“I’ve been busy” he muttered. 

“Clearly.”

“And how do you know about E.B?” he blurted.

“I know a lot of things,” she reasoned. “Just like I knew I needed to find you.” 

“Oh yeah? Why?”

“Because,” she snuggled into the plush leather. “You’re going to help me kill the King.”

“Fuck the King” he raised his bottle before taking a long gulp. 

“My thoughts exactly,” Sansa agreed. “He killed my parents, I mean to kill him.”

“And how is a lovely Little Bird like you going to do that?”

“I have my secrets” she wiggled her toes. 

“I’m sure you do,” he chuckled then paused. “Wait, were you even unconscious when I carried you here?” 

“Would you be angry if I said no?” she gave a sheepish grin. 

“Buggering hells” he ran a hand through his hair. “Who the fuck are you, girl.” 

“No one, really. I think I’ll move in” she made a show of looking around. “Water pressure is better than my hotel, and you buy expensive shampoo, I like it.”

“Never had a roommate before” he set his empty bottle aside and crossed his arms over the broad wall of his chest. Sansa was momentarily distracted by his bulging biceps but managed to stay focused. For the most part. 

“No wife or girlfriend then?” she smirked and his answering laughter made her smile. “You have a lovely laugh.”

“Keep your chirping to yourself or better yet, save it for one of those pretty little boys girls like you chase around.”

“Ah, Sandor. I like you.”

“Feelings mutual” he admitted, albeit reluctantly. 

“Good” she nodded to the remote. “Now let’s find something entertaining to watch.”

“Deal” he nodded, and she didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on her bare legs. King’s Landing was turning out better and better. 

“Alright, you’ve eaten—again, now what?” Sandor asked as they walked down the street. Sansa was busy enjoying a very large chicken Gyro she’d picked up in the last block, the sounds escaping her doing terrible things to his self-control. 

“We kill the King” she said once she’d swallowed. “Want a bite?” she extended the wrap, pausing her stride. 

“Yeah, fuck it” he leaned in, taking a bit as she held it steady. 

“Great, right?” she beamed. Fuck, she was beautiful. 

“Yeah” he agreed over his mouth full of food. 

“I have to eat a lot, high metabolism,” she explained. “There’s so much more available in the city, it’s nice not to have to cook every couple hours.”

“Once we’re done tonight, I’ll buy you a whole fried chicken if you want” he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets in an attempt to quell the urge to reach out and grab her. It didn’t work, he still wanted to. 

Badly. 

"Promise?" 

"Promise" he chuckled. Sansa was the first person to spend nearly twenty-four hours with him without complaint. In fact, she hadn’t complained at all and he’d been his usual grumpy self. She’d slept on the couch, much to his surprise—he figured she’d slip right into bed with him without pause. Buggering girl would probably even have balls enough to make him be the 'little spoon'.

Not that he’d complain. 

Once they’d woken, late due to watching television until dawn, he experienced his most ‘domestic’ day of his existence. Grocery shopping, grabbing her things from an admittedly shitty hotel, and now they were heading down to ‘The Iron Throne’— a night club rumored to be owned and operated by the King. Sandor hadn’t ventured in yet because it would mean him against untold numbers of leeches, and it wasn’t a safe bet.

He’d been researching all of the properties and associates of the King for some time, and this club seemed to be the central gathering place for them all. He’d shown Sansa the architectural plans of the club back at the apartment, and she had boldly declared this was ‘going to be a walk in the park’.

Whatever the fuck that meant.

Adjusting the pack on his shoulder he leaned in to take another offered bite of the Gyro before Sansa tossed the empty wrapper into a street bin. 

“You gonna tell me about this secret weapon before we get in there?” he nodded across the street to the gaudy neon lights advertising the club to the world. 

“Nah, I think you’re a man who will enjoy the surprise” she smiled up at him, completely unphased at what they were about to walk into. Gods be damned if that wasn’t sexy. Somehow this little firebrand had wiggled his way under his skin and he wasn’t looking forward to the time when she walked away. 

“So we’re just going to walk in?” he scoffed. “I think your balls are bigger than mine.”

“There is what? Fifteen? Twenty grunts at max? A bit much for one man, but now you have me” she beamed. 

“Aye and what are you going to do? Bat your eyelashes at them?”

“Sandor, Sandor” she wrapped an arm around his shoulders the best she could on tip-toe. “You gotta have faith! Trust me.”

“Faith” he snarked. “Faith isn’t going to save you from their fucking sharp teeth, Little Bird.” 

“Some teeth are sharper” she smirked and he had the distinct feeling that he was in way over his head with Sansa Stark.

“Well, I guess we’re set to go. Ready?” 

“Fuck yes” she replied and they stepped into the street. Most humans didn’t pay them any mind, though a few stepped out of the way. Good. Fuckers. 

Rather than going in the front door, they walked down the side alley and he used brute strength to yank open the door. 

Loud music and more than a bit of fake fog surrounded them the moment they stepped inside. Sansa scrunched her nose, making an adorable face of disgust that made him feel like a buggering fool. The woman had reduced him to a panting lapdog in record time. He made a mental note to be embarrassed about that later. 

Sandor began scoping out the club's layout, immediately spotting the VIP areas and the glass office that overlooked the absolutely packed dance floor. He counted eight leeches so far, so he hoped whatever Sansa had up her sleeve was useful in close quarters combat. 

Speaking of, he watched as she grabbed a glass of amber liquid from a passing waitress. She took a drink and wordlessly passed him the glass which he drained in a single gulp. Whisky, top shelf if he had to guess. Good shit. 

“Upstairs” Sansa called out as the entire room came to a halt. Music abruptly cut off, the dancers slowed to stillness, looking at each other in drunken confusion. 

“Out!” a harsh nasally voice screamed out and the aforementioned leeches began ushering everyone to the door. It seems that Sandor’s reputation had preceded him and they’d been spotted right away. Now on full alert, Sandor’s eyes lifted to watch a skinny blond punk emerge from the office above. So this was the King—what a fucking let down. 

“What a cunt” he heard Sansa whisper. 

“Couldn’t agree more” he muttered, lowering the duffel bag to the sticky floor, within reach of course. 

“I’ve been looking forward to this day, dog” the blond began to descend the stairs. “You’ve been killing my minions for ages. I admit, I am surprised you had the guts to walk in here” he looked at the laughing bloated henchmen at his back as if seeking their approval before he continued. “And look, you’ve brought a date to your execution” his eyes landed on Sansa which made Sandor’s hackles rise. “He’s too ugly for you, love—“

“Fuck you” Sansa spat with enough vitriol that even Sandor was taken aback. 

“Such language,” the King laughed, looking to his henchmen. “We should teach you a lesson.”

“By all means” Sansa gestured to the vacant dance floor with a smile. A henchman to his right stepped forward and Sandor laid him out, sending him to the ground with a single punch to the throat. 

“Fuck off” Sandor spat at the bald leech, placing a heavy boot over the vampire's chest. 

“Sexy” Sansa winked back at him, shrugging out of her leather jacket. 

“Little Bird…” he cautioned, watching several others approach and circle them. “Unless you’ve got a grenade in that bra of yours--”

“Don’t worry, Clegane” she stretched her neck and shoulders, rolling them back. “I’ll keep you safe.” 

“The fuck—“ he stepped closer to her as a leech lunged for her but she side stepped and in the next instant the room exploded. No—Sansa exploded. The world seemed to blur and then her clothes were fluttering to the floor in an array of tattered pieces. In her place at the center of the dance floor was now an enormous grey wolf, one snarling at the King. Werewolf? She was a Fucking werewolf? Or shapeshifter—-whatever the fuck! 

Well, that explained the metabolism. 

“A fucking Stark?” the King screeched. “You brought a Stark!? I hate those fucking dogs! Kill her! Kill her now!” At this, Sansa’s massive jaw snapped and snarled, a huge paw slamming into the floor with enough force to splinter the wood. Ah, that’s why it sounded familiar--the Starks were skin-changers or whatever the fuck. 

Several henchmen descended but before Sandor could react, Sansa—the Wolf, had torn them apart, limbs and pieces fluttering to the ground like refuse. One even bounced off the crystal and glass mirror behind the bar like a ragdoll, sending bottles and booze everywhere. 

“Bitch!”

Sandor raised a revolver, loaded with silver bullets, taking down another round of henchmen with ease. He didn’t stop until they were chunks or ashes, not willing to take a chance of any survivors. The difference between pure-bred Vampires and those who were made into henchmen, was in their death. The henchmen would flutter away to ash and the pure-breds looked human through and through--it made them harder to spot. 

A deft reload of the cylinder and he was striding to Sansa's side; he stood at her fore shoulder—a united front against the leech leader of King’s Landing. As far as secret weapons went, this was pretty handy. And—if he was being honest, really sexy. Not that he was into Wolves, but...hey.

With a mighty growl, Sansa leapt at the King—jaws locking around his torso and flinging him to the broken dance floor at Sandor’s feet. He rolled, trying to gain his footing but a well placed size-14 boot sent him back to his face. 

“Stay down, cunt” Sandor warned, looming over him. “You kill her parents?” 

“I’ll kill all the fucking Starks” the King yelled then screamed as Sandor put more of his weight onto his neck. It was likely most of the bones in his torso were broken thanks to Sansa, so it didn’t take much to have him whimpering. “They’re abominations--” he continued but Sansa’s violent snarl cut him off. Sandor couldn’t help but smirk, feeling how terrified the King was now that a Wolf had come for him on his own turf. 

Sansa prowled closer, watching the felled King with familiar blue eyes. Sandor waited for her to attack, to lunge at the monster who’d killed her parents but the movement never came. Instead she stalked to Sandor’s left and nudged his gun arm with her muzzle. 

“You want me to shoot him then? You’re the one with the 'secret weapon',” he smirked and he could almost feel her exasperation. If she were human right now, she’d be rolling her eyes. 

Instead she gave an odd sort of chortle, sinking to her haunches at his side. Taking the invitation and not wasting the chance, Sandor unloaded the revolver into the King, turning him to nothing more than chum without a single fuck to spare. 

“Eh?” Sandor motioned to the body and Sansa’s wolf tilted her head to the side, admiring his handiwork--unimpressed. “Oh, come on!” He tucked the gun into his belt and faced her. “That’s gold.”

Her form shimmered, then melted away; silver fur giving way to porcelain skin and fiery hair, leaving her naked on the dance floor. Fuck if she wasn’t perfect, every inch of her.

“Well now” he let his eyes roam over her, committing her to memory. 

“You missed a spot” she motioned sarcastically to the King’s still mostly intact scalp and he pulled the gun free, reloaded it, and repeated his earlier actions without breaking eye contact. “Better” she nodded in approval. 

“You’re very naked, Little Bird.”

“Nice of you to notice” she didn’t show an ounce of shame. “Toss me the clothes I stashed with the guns, will you?”

“And if I don’t want to?”

“Please, Clegane. My bloods up sky high and don’t think for a second I’m not going to ride the fuck out of your cock the second we get back.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d let you” he countered but she didn’t reply, merely crossed her arms and raised a brow. 

"I can find someone else---"

"Bugger that,” he tossed her the t-shirt and sweats she’d tucked into the bag and she pulled them on along with her leather jacket. 

“That went well, I think” she mused, looking over the array of bodies and body parts. 

“Ya think?” Sandor laughed, booking the duffel over his shoulder. 

“Told you I had a secret weapon” she looped her arm through his, pointing them towards the exit. 

“Becoming a wolf the size of a horse isn’t a very good secret” he pulled his arm from hers and wrapped it around her shoulders. 

“But it is a good weapon” she snuggled against his side, wrapping an arm around his lower back. 

“Fair enough,” he paused briefly, striking a match and tossing it to the center of the ruined dancefloor, the sticky blood of their enemies igniting quickly. In no time the flames would reduce the remaining body parts to ash, the purest death.

“Only Wolves left are Starks. There used to be more--other families, but they died out years ago and females aren’t supposed to be able to shift without the moon,” Sansa continued to explain. “The King—Joffrey, killed my parents for their pelts not realizing or caring, that my Mother didn’t have one. With every generation we grow fewer and fewer. Arya and I are the strongest in the blood, two of our Brothers can’t shift at all. And so I came here for him and my baby Sister went to Lannisport.”

“Lannisport?” he repeated as they ducked out the side entrance. 

“To kill Joffrey’s entire family” Sansa smiled sweetly up at him. 

“Fuck me,” Sandor shook his head, awestruck and unable to form a better response. 

“Alright, if you insist,” Sansa countered smoothly, keeping close to his side as they walked back to his apartment. 

Sansa couldn’t seem to get her heart under control, it’s pace rapid and frantic, desperate to relieve the tension that had been building since the moment she awoke in Sandor’s apartment last night. 

Still, it was a lovely feeling. 

The sound of Sandor’s gear bag hitting the hardwood echoed in the apartment as he closed and locked the door. They’d accomplished their goal tonight, cutting off the head of leech leadership within the city. In due time another head would take its place but for tonight they’d won. 

Tossing her leather jacket to the couch, she walked the familiar path to the master bedroom. 

“I need a shower” she shimmied out of her sweats, feeling the heat of Sandor’s eyes as he watched her. “You coming?” she tugged her shirt away and dropped it beside her pants, looking back over her bare shoulder at him. 

“Never before you do, Little Bird” he shucked his boots and jacket in record time before scooping her into his arms. Gods he was glorious, all hard planes and chiseled features; even the hook in his nose was nothing but Gods-carved wonderful. 

They’d barely made it into the bedroom before she found herself pressed against the wall, his lips lowering to hers in a brutal, claiming kiss. Her arms and legs wrapped around him, the denim between her core and his cock creating the most delicious sort of friction. In the back of her mind she registered the sound of something crashing, breaking maybe? but she didn’t pull away. Instead she melted into him, tugging at the hem of his black t-shirt in an attempt to remove it. 

Taking the hint he moved away long enough to shed the rest of his clothes, tossing his revolver onto the night table before time carrying her to the bathroom and turning the shower on full blast. 

“Fuck” Sansa gasped, watching the muscles of his frame move and flex as he returned to her. She was right, he was fantastic. The Warrior himself couldn’t look this perfect, right down to a variety of scars that littered his flesh, marring the dark hair that covered his chest and arms.

“You’re fucking perfect” his fingers traced her breasts, lingering on their peaks. 

“Me?” she scoffed, her eyes falling to his cock. “Look at you. I’m not entirely sure that’s going to fit.”

“I’ll fit” he assured her, a smug smile on his lips. “You’ll be nice and wet, I’ll slide right into that perfectly pink pussy of yours.”

“Fuck” she whispered this time, lust coursing over her. 

“Soon,” he promised, guiding them both into the hot shower spray. As if by design, entering the shower slowed their movements, magnifying every touch and kiss. The white noise of the water blocked out the city beyond, narrowing her world to this shower and this man. She couldn’t stop the groan that escaped her chest as Sandor washed her hair, large hands lingering on her scalp as he scrubbed away the scent of leech and blood. 

“I love a man who’s good with his hands” she sighed, leaning against him as he washed the soap away. 

“I’ve not had much occasion to be gentle” came his soft reply. 

“It’s okay. I won’t break so easily” she replied softly, guiding his lips back to hers. The rest of their shower faded away in a wandering path of soap and deep lustful kisses. Sandor’s frustrated growl that sent a shiver down her spine as he shut off the water and carried her from the stall. A quick toweling and she found herself deposited on the plush mattress, Sandor crawling over her. 

“Fucking perfect” he cupped a breast, suckling the tip into his mouth. 

“Oh--shit, Sandor” her hands tunneled into his hair, arching against him as he lapped at her breasts, first one then the other. The man’s mouth was a deadly weapon—it had to be, because she was about to die of pleasure. 

“Fuck” he growled, moving her further into the bed and sliding between her legs confirming beyond a doubt that his mouth was going to kill her. His broad shoulders held her thighs wide, laying her out like a buffet as he dove in to devour her.

Her blood was still up, and the foreplay they’d already managed had keyed her to point that it didn’t take long for her body to plummet headlong into climax. The neighbors probably heard her, she didn’t even bother trying to smother the pornographic sounds escaping her, she couldn't find it in herself to care. She’d never come this hard and could only attribute it to how badly she wanted him.

“That’s it, let them hear you” Sandor whispered against her inner thigh, trailing kisses from her soaked folds to her hip bone, then on to her belly button. 

“You’re a fucking God” she panted on a breathless laugh. 

“You’d be the first to think so, unless of course you’re talking about the Stranger.”

“Absolutely not” she used her fingers carded into his hair to guide him back up her body. He settled into the cradle of her thighs, looming over her like the absolute unit that he was. “I bet you still taste like me” she looked at his well-kept beard that certainly wasn’t free of her juices. 

“Probably so—“ she kissed him, the taste of him and her own cum exploding on her tongue. She did her best to hold him close but he was far from idle; he quickly adjusted himself, aligning that monster cock of his to tease her entrance. 

“Fuck” he abruptly pulled back from their kiss. “I don’t have condoms.”

“You clean?”

“I don’t exactly take lovers, Little Bird.”

“You have me now. I’m clean and not fertile” she noticed the confusion in his eyes. “Wolves; no disease, different cycles.”

“Thank fuck” he wrapped an arm under her back, angling her hips just enough to slip the swollen head inside. 

“Gods you’re big” she exhaled. “It’s a good thing I’m not fragile, you’d split me in two.”

“Thank fuck” he renewed their kiss and sank home, sliding into her soaked channel with an achingly delicious burn. Sansa could only whimper into their kiss and cling to him with her arms and legs as he filled her to bottoming out. He was right, she was soaked enough that he slid home without a problem, stretching her wide.

She wasn’t certain how she would ever go back to living without this man inside of her, nothing had ever felt so perfect. Mentally she decided that she’d just have to stick around King’s Landing for...well, the foreseeable future. 

“Fuck, Little Bird” he groaned against the corner of her mouth, resting his forehead against her temple. “You’re so fucking tight, I’m not going to last.”

“Just fuck me, I want to feel you everywhere,” she begged, lifting her hips to grind against him. 

“I’ll fuck you” he promise withdrawing with a smooth glide before moving back deep. “And later, when you can’t buggering walk, I’ll take my time with you—worship you like you deserve.”

“Yes” she sobbed, clinging to his broad frame. “Please” she begged and he obeyed without hesitation. With each snap of his hips, she could feel the muscles in his back ripple and flex. But more than that, she could feel her veins turn to lava, molten and explosive. She was possessed—half-mad with desire. 

Sandor’s raspy voice was a filthy litany of dark promises and graphic descriptions of their coupling—all of which served to drive her wild. 

“Harder” she begged. 

“Fuck” he hissed, fucking her into the mattress with barely tethered control. Though Sandor’s soul wasn’t a Wolf like hers, she could feel it’s ferocity rise up to meet her own—twisting and twining together as equals. 

It crested out of nowhere, and she could only sob in incoherent pleasure as she came around him. Rather than succumb to the urge to mark him, she threw her head back as it coursed through her. Everything was trembling, thighs, feet, hands—every inch of her tumbling over the edge. 

“Sansa—fuck” she barely had time to breathe before Sandor’s teeth found purchase in the soft flesh where her neck met her shoulder, closing around her collarbone as he slammed his cock deep enough to send a squirm through her, surrendering to his own pleasure. 

Sansa tried to catch her breath and return to her body, heart racing and breathing shallow. Several long minutes passed, neither of them able to form words, coming down from their highs. 

“Sandor” Sansa whispered as he nuzzled against her cheek. 

“Hmm?”

“You, uh...” she cleared her throat as he pulled back to look at her. He looked feral, eyes wild and lips swollen. 

“Fuck, I bit you” his stare was locked on her shoulder. “I fucking bit you.”

“You...you _mated_ me” she corrected softly. 

“I did what?” 

“Wolves—shifters, they mark their mates at the shoulder” she watched a trickle of blood travel down her collarbone. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t fucking know--fuck!” he rolled beside her, covering his face with his hand. “Of course I had to fuck this up” he muttered to himself. 

“You didn’t ‘fuck this up’,” she leaned up on her elbow to watch him. “I’m just...surprised that you had the urge to do that at all. I mean, I did, but...”

“All I could think about was filling you with my cum and sinking my teeth here” he touched the rapidly healing wound. 

“Do you have ancestors from the North?” She inquired. “You look Northern enough…”

“The West, so I’m told. I don’t know much about my family, Little Bird. Kennel masters at one point, sworn shields at another. Who the fuck knows what’s true.” 

“The King, he called you dog” Sansa suddenly remembered. 

“Aye, he did.” 

“You could have some trace of it, there in your blood” she snuggled to his side. "He could have smelled it?"

“Aye, ‘suppose I could. I’m good enough at killing bloodsuckers” he wrapped his arms around her, reaping her against him with muscles of iron. 

“That you are” she smiled, resting her chin on his shoulder. “I hope you meant to keep me.”

“For as long as fucking possible.”

“Good” she sighed. “Good.”

“Rest a bit, then I’ll make you something to eat and fuck you over the kitchen table like I wanted to last night.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Little Bird” he assured her and she relaxed against him, letting the steady beat of his heart lull her into sleep. 

The far off sound of a cell phone ringing brought Sandor from the most restful slumber he’d had in ages. Before he even opened his eyes he knew that Sansa was still snuggled against his chest, spooned into the curve of his body where she’d fallen asleep in the early morning light. 

They’d spent the entirety of the night going at it like wild animals; fucking, kissing, biting and snarling out their pleasure until exhaustion had claimed them. Judging from the ache in his body, he’d worked muscles he’d long abandoned and he had more than a few scratches on his back. 

“What?” he heard Sansa mutter as she shifted against him. 

“San” a throaty female voice that he didn’t recognize sounded. “Are all Hunters this built? Or did I win the lottery? Like, is it some sort of requirement Dad didn’t tell us about?” 

“Huh?”

“Look at this” he heard and, at that he shifted, lifting his head to see a tiny brunette in Sansa’s phone screen redirecting her self-facing camera to reveal the back of a man cooking at the stove, sans shirt. Sandor recognized the man’s dark hair and heavily shoulders back immediately, and barely resisted the urge to chuckle. That buggering boy beat leeches to death with a war-hammer, Sandor always figured he was a bit touched in the head.

“Ya,” Sansa sighed. “It’s too early.”

“I waited as long as I could to call. No joke, I spent the night getting dicked—“

“Ya!”

“What?” the brunette sighed in exasperation and Sandor was awake enough to watch Sansa move her own camera. 

“I see your Hunter and raise you my Clegane” Sansa declared, rolling further into the curve of his chest. She raised the phone above them and Sandor was belatedly grateful that his scarred side was hidden against the pillows. Sansa’s hair was a mess, a riot of curls and tangles, it would have been obvious what they’d been up to.

“Ho. Lee. Shit—San!” the brunette was suddenly very interested in the conversation, leaning closer to the screen. "He's huge!"

“I’m hanging up now, Ya” Sansa giggled. “Talk to you later.”

“Wait—“ but her words were cut off when Sansa ended the video call, shutting the phone off before setting it back on the nightstand. 

“My Sister” Sansa explained, pulling his arm around her chest. Her bare breasts were warm against his forearm, their familiar weight making him all but purr in contentment. 

“She can wait,” Sandor mumbled against her shoulder. 

“I agree” Sansa pushed that delectable ass against his groin, reigniting the fire in his blood. He’d been unable to sate himself, continually desperate for her—aching for her touch in the same instance he could barely believe she was here with him. 

He still had no idea why he’d bitten her or why the urge had struck him with such ferocity that he wasn’t able to refute it. But if that meant Sansa was his mate, he couldn’t find fault in it. He couldn’t muster up a single regret. It didn't matter now, not now that his own shoulder bore a very similar (if daintier) mark of it's own.

“San” Sansa purred, sliding the length of his cock against her ass. 

“Hmm?” He grunted, not feeling particularly articulate at the moment. 

“I’m hungry” she pouted dramatically and he couldn’t help but laugh, burying his face into the curve of her neck. 

“Have I let you go hungry yet?” he kissed across her shoulder.

“No…” she sighed.

“I’ll feed you, Little Bird, but first I’m going to make you scream loud enough to wake the neighbors” he promised, sliding a hand to the apex of her thighs. With a dexterity that surprised even himself, he found that elusive bundle of nerves that quickly reduced her a whimpering mess in his arms. 

He held her tight, thoroughly wrapped in his embrace as his fingers teased and stroked her into madness. He memorized every tremor and gasp, flicked and rubbed in perfect succession to have her screaming against his bicep. 

“That’s it” he lifted her leg and, aligning himself with her soaked cunt, he sank home—because there was no mistaking that this was home. 

“Yessss” the word was drawn out, a hissed expletive as he rocked deep within her. Her body surrounded him, sucked him in and held him like a velvet fist. He would be content if he never had to leave this bed; if he could spend the rest of his days right here with his arms wrapped around her and his cock buried deep inside her. 

Time fell away and nothing beyond their bed mattered, and before he knew it he was holding to her hipbone in a bruising grip as her inner core convulsed around him, ripping his own climax from his body until he had nothing left to give. 

Then and only then, did he lapse back into slumber, her skin flush against his own. Her scent permeated his entire being, lulling him into a peace he’d never known before. 

_Some years later…_

She could feel his eyes on her, bold like a lover and just as heated. Rotating on her stool, her eyes sought out the source and quickly found him, barely visible in the darkened corner of the bar. A pair of shot glasses sat on the table in front of him, one empty and one full, both of them serving as perfect camouflage for what he was actually here to do. 

Without looking away from him, she crossed her long legs, knowing that the skirt of her rich burgundy dress would slide up her thigh just enough to have those stormy grey eyes of his turning black. In the bustling bar, a shitty hole in the wall called ‘The Clam Digger’, there were humans, vampires, and a Hunter alike--but he was the only one aware that another species lingered in plain sight; the most dangerous of them all. In fact, she knew first hand that he took great delight in being connected to the most dangerous being in King’s Landing.

She raised her gin and ginger ale with a saccharine smile, a mock salute of sorts before her attention returned to the man at her left. Golden and stupid--why were they always golden and stupid? The newest leech attempting to place himself at the head of King’s Landing’s underworld was none other than a former crooked investment banker and man-whore named Harrold Hardyng. 

Fortunately for her, he was also very easily led around by his dick. 

“Tell me, dollface” his chilled finger traced her shoulder, making her stomach turn. “What would you say if I asked you to get out of here with me? We could go somewhere private and...talk.” 

This was just embarrassingly easy. 

“I’d say there was a perfectly good alley out back” she twirled her straw in her drink before raising it to her lips to suck the alcohol clean. 

“Lead the way” he watched her as she slid from the stool, so focused on her legs that he missed her nod to the man in the dark corner, who quickly downed his second shot and followed their escape. Playing her part well, Sansa intentionally stumbled at the back door, giving the illusion that perhaps she’d had just a bit too much to drink. As if her metabolism would let that happen. 

The cold night air greeted them the moment she stepped out the back door, the bright light of the moon keeping the alley surprisingly illuminated. 

“You’re so beautiful” Harrold’s hand settled at her waist, backing her against the bar’s stone outer wall. 

“Am I?” she giggled, throwing her loose hair over her shoulder. 

“Imagine how lovely you’d be...” he absently whispered as his fingers travelled to her pulse point at her neck. However the moment his fingers touched the heated flesh of her mating mark, he recoiled, stumbling back and hissing in disgust. “You--” 

“Me” she pushed away from the wall with an apathetic movement. “Don’t worry, Hardyng, we’ll make it quick.” 

“We?” his voice was a weak whimper, eyes wide. 

“We” Sandor emerged from the shadows of a fire escape and shoved the wooden dagger through Harrold’s back and into his heart. His body immediately fluttered to ash, his last expression one of frozen terror until all that remained was a bespoke suit and polished shoes. 

“What a creep” Sansa brushed a bit of ash from her skirt. “Gods, I need a shower.” 

“I hate that he fucking touched you” Sandor growled, stepping over the pile of leech to back her into the wall. 

“Is that why you staked him before we could ask about Baelish?” 

“Aye, fuck him” Sandor turned to spit on Harrold’s suit. “Cunt” he grunted, moving his attention back to her. “I love this dress on you” his large hands skated up her thighs, bunching the hem. “I like it even better off.” 

“I think I knew that” she slipped her arms around him and under the back hem of his henley. Her fingers traced the bare flesh of his back, a back that was now home to a very large silver wolf tattoo that looked more than a little like her. The wolf and the little bird, both were her he’d explained, and he wanted them at his back forever.

“Fuck, I love you, Little Bird” he kissed her softly at first, his beard tickling her as it always did. “You smell so fucking good” he growled, just another hint that deep within his bloodline, there was a shifter in there somewhere. 

Just over two years she’d spent at his side in King’s Landing, and she’d loved every single day of it. They’d married almost year ago in a quiet ceremony in the North with only her family and E.B. present. They'd spent a brief honeymoon in White Harbor before returning to the city to hunt. With the two of them working together, the Vampire activity in the city was at an all-time low, but there were still pockets of organizations that were trafficking unwilling human donors and taking people off the streets. Hence their work tonight.

Sandor’s reputation quickly attached to hers, and before she knew it he was using the threat ‘don’t make me get the missus’ on leeches and familiars who refused to cooperate. It hadn’t failed to make them more than willing to spill their secrets. 

The only argument they’d had was in regards to children and whether or not it would be safe to bring them into this world. Sansa had always wanted children--a large family like the one she’d grown up in, but Sandor was of the mind that they could be in danger. They were Hunters and their children could become targets. At that Sansa would only scoff, reminding him that he was clearly underestimating a She-Wolf. 

“Are you two serious?” Sansa’s shoulders slumped in exasperation as her Sister’s voice cut into their moment. Sandor pulled back from her neck enough for her to catch the murder in his eyes before he turned to snarl at Arya. 

“Runt--” 

“I’ve been waiting for hours,” Arya argued. 

“You have not” Sansa retorted. "Gods, Ya!" 

“We have to go. You got your ‘one last hunt’ in, now we have to go North,” Arya crossed her arms. “And soon, judging by what I interrupted.”

“I know” Sansa nodded, slipping her hand into Sandor’s. Arya had come to King’s Landing on her way North from Lannisport, doing her duty to the Pack to ensure that Sansa made it home safely before her heat hit her full force. It would be easier to handle it without her mate if she could run unhindered through the forest, and Arya would be there to protect her. 

“Clock’s ticking!” Arya quipped and Sansa felt the weight of those words in more ways than one. 

“I have to go before...” Sansa whispered to Sandor, unable to miss the torment in his eyes. “What?” 

“Little Bird…” he broke off, swallowing thickly. 

“We talked about it, I know. It’s okay” she squeezed his hand briefly before releasing it. “I will be back as soon as it’s over. I love you” she went on her toes to steal a kiss and stepped away. 

“No” his hand shot out, closing around hers and pulling her back. “Don’t go. Stay.” 

“Sandor--” 

“I know what we talked about, and--fuck,” he wrapped his arms around her. “Fuck what we talked about. Stay, stay with me.” 

“You know what could happen…” 

“Aye, I know” he lowered his forehead to hers. “And I want that...it terrifies the shit out of me, but I want it.” 

“Oh” Sansa suddenly felt light-headed, placing her hands on his chest as if to borrow his strength. “You really mean that” it was more a statement than a question but he lifted his head anyway. 

“Go home, runt” he bellowed to Arya. “Run back to your Hunter now, we won’t be needing you.” Sansa looked to Arya and gave her a small nod of agreement. Her Sister uncrossed her arms, regarding her for several seconds before she smiled. 

“Good luck, Clegane. See you on the flipside” Arya treated them to the ever-cringe ‘finger guns’ and strode from the alley, leaving them alone in the moonlight. 

“What the fuck does that mean” Sandor scoffed, clearly amused at Arya’s antics. 

“Well” Sansa smirked, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “I think it means that I am about to rock your world, hubby.” 

“Gods Girl, you’ve been doing that since the moment we met” he chuckled. 

“I have to keep you guessing,” she teased. “Keeps you young.” 

“Bah” he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go home, Little Wolf.” 

“What a wonderful idea” she snugged herself to her side and fell into step beside him, walking together towards their future.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
> @the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/
> 
> Or you can join the Pack [HERE](https://discord.gg/bsRauMj/) on discord!


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